Thursday, 27. May 2010
1. This post may contain a little TMI than some folks are used to, but I am one such person to never skim on details.
2. This post may also provide too much insight on my personal neuroticism.
As I’m sure you’ll all agree, moving is a pain. Luckily, my sister flew in from Toronto for moral support, and I had movers to come in and pack up all my things for me. Now I don’t know how you store your delicates, but being a child of the IKEA age, I have two of their Antonius shelves to house mine.
Now here’s how I process. I figured, since all the items are already in their respective drawers, it’ll probably be more time-efficient to just wrap tape around and around to secure them. In fact, that is exactly what I’d do as a mover if I were to pack. Secure items. Check. Lift shelves to truck. Check. Unload from truck. Check. Et Voila!
I was so so wrong. I stepped outside my apartment to soak up the last few days of California sunshine while 3 burly men came in and took apart the dining table, coffee table, book shelves, bed frames. In the mean time, these men got to work packing everything else. About 30 minutes later, the apartment gave birth to 40 boxes that just kept coming. Thinking that I should probably step in to check on their progress, I sauntered in. All the items in my Antonius shelves – the ones that store my delicates – had been emptied.
Let’s think here for a second, my friends. One out of three of those burly men was in my underwear drawer emptying out the contents into a brown cardboard box. He might or might not have seen what I own. I was hoping for might not, but who are we kidding here? He. touched. my. undies. And let’s not even get into how we categorize them – Grade A for the super special occasions, Grade B for the everyday wear, Grade C for the…. well, you get the idea.
Mortification ensued. When it came time to initialize the form and acknowledge that everything had been packed and ready to ship, looking straight into the mover’s eyes was a challenge. I looked everywhere else but. His hairline, his nose, the tree 10 feet behind him, and oh, yes – the form.
Good thing I have a sister to laugh it all off – over beers to drink it all away. So, the lesson here is, when movers come to pack your stuff…they pack e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.